


Til Death Do Us Part

by musamortem



Series: Til Death Do Us Part (Eomer x Reader) [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 23:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10673301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musamortem/pseuds/musamortem
Summary: Imagine being Eomer’s wife and when he gets banished from Rohan along with the riders, he tells you to stay in Rohan but you, being extremely stubborn and perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, leave with them anyways. (ImaginexHobbit)





	Til Death Do Us Part

“My love,” you began, following Eomer out to the stables. “As much as I enjoy your jests – they have been a constant companion of mine admittedly – please take this seriously.”

Your husband of three years hoisted his saddle onto the wooden gate, turning to retrieve the blanket he’d set aside earlier. After he draped it over Firefoot’s back, he turned to grab the saddle. You snatched it from his reach, determined to get his attention.

He sighed and extended his hand. “Give it here.”

“Not until you tell me what happened with your meeting with King Theoden. Will he see to reason?”

He shook his head. “Not with Grima lurking in the shadow of his throne.”

The stable doors opened and a flood of other Riders joined them in the stables, tending to their horses and nodding to Eomer in a silent greeting. You kept eye contact with your husband, but still there was an eerie silence as the men hoisted their saddles and brought out the bridles. They quietly shuffled about, dressing the steeds in their traditional armor, and you noticed that they too were packed for what seemed to be a long journey.

Your grip on the heavy saddle was weaning, but still you refused to give it to Eomer. Looking at the Riders and then at your husband, you furrowed your brow. “Where are you being heralded? What silly journey have they sent you on that you need bring so much supplies?”

“(Y/N)…”

You readjusted your hold on the saddle and shook your head, curses ready to jump from your lips. “You may be the Third Marshall of Riddermark, but you are still my husband and I demand to know what the bloody hell is going on else you ride saddleless.”

He would have chuckled at your ending remark, but this was indeed no laughing matter. Eomer gripped the saddle and pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead before muttering, “I do not know how long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Grima has ordered our banishment,” he said, tugging at the saddle.

You tugged back. “That snake has no power and you know it. Demand to see King Theoden alone and have him see reason!”

“The King signed the decree himself,” your husband replied before wrestling the saddle from your limp hands. Your entire being froze in doubt and confusion. The King you grew to love as a father figure signed his own nephew’s banishment. The sharp sting of betrayal wounded you deeply as you bit back tears of frustration.

“Darling,” Eomer’s rough, callused hands cradled your cheek after he saddled Firefoot, lifting you from your thoughts. “(Y/N), please. I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

Grasping his large hand, you looked up into his eyes and your heart ached at the sight. He was confident, but you could still see how fearful he was. Here stood a man who hadn’t placed much faith in anything supernatural, but at that moment, you knew he would’ve prayed to any of the Valars for guidance.

“I need you to stay here in Rohan – ”

“No.”

“Let me finish – ”

“No!”

“You just said you’d do anything.” Eomer bit back a smile.

You frowned. “We also vowed to be together until death parts us.”

“I cannot allow you to come along. The Riders and I will be patrolling the outskirts of Rohan regardless of our exile. At least then I’ll know you are safe.”

“You wish for me to sit around and wait like a simpleton?” You hissed as he turned to his steed, tightening the straps of his saddle. “You are surely mad. I am just as capable as any of the Riders. You know that, Eomer!”

“Which is why I’d want you here as our last line of defense.” He stepped to you with open arms, pleading for understanding, but overcome with betrayal of the king and then your husband, you turned away, stepping out of Firefoot’s pen.

“You and I both know that’s a foolish line. Go on then. Leave me to wander the streets wondering if my husband is even alive. Ride on with your men.”

Before he could say a word, you stormed out of the stables, red faced with so much anger, you kicked a large keg off its legs. You immediately regretted the action when pain shot up from your foot and you hobbled the rest of the way to your desired location.

Walking up the steps with adamant determination, you straightened your posture and entered the double doors.

\-------------------------------------

 

The sun was still high when Eomer and the other Riders were ready to leave with their heavy hearts and renewed loyalty to the crown. They would have their revenge indeed. As they slowly rode their way through the town, wives and families of the riders stifled their burning tears, waving farewell with their heads held high. Lovers wept openly and reach for their rider’s hand as a last token of affection. Eomer’s heart ached with guilt for taking these men with him despite their willingness to follow and he searched for a particular face that would quell his heart. He regretted that their last conversation was so tumultuous and longed to part on good terms.

At least she will be safe with Eowyn, he thought to himself as they reached the gates. Craning his neck at the gatekeeper, he nodded and with a loud creak and thunderous boom of the chains and gears, the doors to the outskirts of Rohan were laid open to them. Turning to look at the castle at the top of the hill, he could not make out the figure atop the steps, but he imagined it to be his wife. He dug through his armor, pulling out a small coined pendant. It had been a gift from her not long after they married and he had carried it with him always.

Placing a kiss on it, he turned to the land before them and nudged Firefoot forward, listening as his Men followed through the gates. As the last man came through, the gates creaked, beginning their close.

“Wait!” The men turned on their horses and a hushed conversation wafted its way through the riders. Eomer wound his way around them, determined to see who it was for he knew that voice all too well.

Within the shrinking view of his home, his heart stopped and he found himself torn.

Your heart raced faster than your steed, determined to get through the gates. Hell, you were prepared to jump off his back if need be. How dare he try to leave you behind! Women and children scrambled to make a path as you thundered by. Some cursed you as you rode past, calling you rude, but you did not hear them. You could only hear the blood pumping as the gates continued to close. Your husband stood on the other side and you damned him for not stopping them.

Your view of him began to shrink, but still you did not slow. Instead, you urged your steed faster and Eomer, weighing the risks in his head, began to shake his head, pleading you to stop. Damn him if I stop now! You thought.

Closer and closer the gates creaked together and still you were not close enough.

Dust clouded your vision as you grew closer. At that moment, even you didn’t know if you’d make it and panic started to flood all reasoning, but still you persisted.

You raced through the gates right before they closed and found yourself galloping a path through the startled riders, splitting them down the middle. Pulling hard at the reins, you slowed to a trot and turned, a smile plastered on your face from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

A wave of relief washed over you and you belted out a peal of giggles.

“You think this is funny?” Eomer roared, trotting to the front. “Get back in those gates now.”

“Last I recall,” you said through heavy breath. “You were banished. You, as Marshall, have no authority in these lands. Even if you could get me to return, the gatekeeper is not obligated to listen to an exile.”

Eomer ground his teeth and huffed in defeat. “That may be true, but you are a Lady of Rohan. You can still return – ”

You circled your horse around his with a smirk, reveling in the fact that you had purposely disobeyed him. It was good for his ego at times. “I beg to differ, husband.”

“What?” He was clearly not enjoying the antics.

“I had a meeting with Grima,” you began. “And I was banished.”

His gaze darkened. “For what actions?”

You shrugged. “I tried to burn your banishment order and I ended up getting one as well.”

“You what?”

“Seems like you’re stuck with me.”

Eomer sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers in exasperation. “Sometimes I think I married a child, you understand?”

You grinned. “You know you love me regardless. Now come on. You have your men to lead.”

Eomer lifted his head and suddenly remembered that they were not alone. Turning about, he saw his men who sat ready for their orders. He felt shame for arguing in front of them, but his heart soared with pride. All hope was not lost. The Rohirrim will prevail against their enemies.

Looking up at the home of Theoden, Eomer grinned. Even if termites eat away at us, our walls will stand.

“Til death do us part?” you asked quietly, sitting beside him.

He was quiet as his gaze returned to you and for a moment, his face flickered with doubt, but it was quickly diminished when he smiled. It was true there was no going back now, but with you by his side, he felt a surging hope.

“Til death do us part.”


End file.
